Twenty Six Characters
by morethanamuse
Summary: The Characters of Castle in Twenty-Six Characters. Castle one-shots/drabbles, in alphabetical order. Written in conjunction with  pen name 'mydesperateheart'. CHAPTER 16- 'P'- IS HERE!
1. Available

**_Hello there!_**

**_morethanamuse here, and welcome to 26 Characters! FF Pen name 'mydesperateheart' is writing this with me... we are taking turns, once a day, every day, alternating letters. So, I wrote this one, and she will write 'B' tomorrow, etc. Got it? :) We're very excited! _**

**_We hope you enjoy the first installment!_**

**_Disclaimer: We do not own Castle or any of its characters. Etc etc etc. :)_**

**_ps- forgot to mention before, there is a little 'Firefly' Easter Egg in here for those of you who are well versed in 'verse. ;)_**

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**A is for Available**

_Hey, you've reached Josh Davidson, I'm not available right now, but if you le—_

Kate slammed the phone down in pure, unbridled exasperation. She was glad she used her desk phone, because hitting the 'End' button forcefully just didn't have the same effect as jamming the receiver down onto its cradle. Curling her head down to meet her hand, she pinched the bridge of her nose and exhaled slowly. _Not available,_ she huffed, inwardly. _If I had a quarter for every time—_

"Hey," His voice, though soft, pulled her out of her thoughts. Slightly startled, she looked up to meet his ice-blue eyes that somehow seemed so warm.

"Hey," she smiled back. It was an exhausted, thinly veiling smile, but a smile nonetheless. "I thought you had gone home," she said letting a questioning tone linger on her last word.

He sighed, looking a little disheveled. "I did. I discovered that despite how tired I am, I couldn't settle down. I guess this case is just keeping me on my toes. Literally. I kept getting up, pacing back and forth around my loft. I knew you'd still be here, so I came back."

"Well that was a lucky guess," she quipped, more lighthearted than before.

"Not really. You didn't even make a move for your coat when you _promised_ me you'd go home and recharge. Hell, you didn't even _glance_ at it." She scrunched up her face a little in a 'you caught me' expression. "Anyway," he continued. "I figured you per-maybe-haps forgot to feed yourself," he smiled teasingly at her and gestured to the bag he was carrying. "So if you aren't too engrossed with what you're doing, and are available, I thought..." He trailed, raising his eyebrows in an unspoken question, lifting the bag a little.

Tonight was supposed to be date night for her and Josh. But considering the cold greeting she got from his voicemail earlier, she took it that he had to cancel. _Again._ Logically, she knew that it was probably for a good reason, like an emergency life-saving surgery, which in past days would have impressed her. And while she was glad that he was doing something so productively good with his time, she couldn't truthfully say she wasn't annoyed with it. She knew she lived for her job, but it was like that man breathed medicine. Even when at home with him, it was 'this happened at the hospital today,' or 'one of the nurses said the funniest thing...' He rarely bothered to ask what was going with her life, let alone what went on at the precinct. And even if he _did _have the time, she highly doubted he would hunt her down just to make sure that she had eaten that day. She was so damn tired of it, and she was done. She was _so _done.

She looked at the writer, who was (adorably, she admitted) looking at her with an expectant expression on his face. She visibly and verbally gave in.

"Oh, you got me, Castle," she smiled. This time his eyebrows lifted in surprise. "It just so happens that I am more _available_ than you think."

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**_I hope you enjoyed! Be kind, please review! Let me know what you think, and if you like this idea. :) _**

**_Stay tuned tomorrow (and add us to your alerts) for 'B' from 'mydesperateheart'!_**


	2. Belly Button

_**Hey everyone, it is mydesperateheart here! I am a well hidden person in the land of FF, and I have never published for Castle before :) that was until Muse and I were on Castle Chat and realized what awesome fun it would be to write an alphabet prompt collection! (: so this is my debut of sorts into the published pages of Castle! **_

_**I hope you enjoy, and if you don't like me, stick around for Muse ;D**_

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He loves her body.

To leave it at that would be shallow, but it is an unspoken truth how much he loves her soul. But her body is definitely worth some recognition of its own.

Since their first night together (it was the _Firefly _marathon that set off the chain of events that led them to her bed…and the wall… and later the shower…twice), he had cherished every part. There were certain portions of her body which he was _especially _fond of, but there was one particular part of her that he couldn't get enough of.

Her belly button.

As they lay spent, their chests heaving, he curled up behind her and set about tracing patterns around her belly button. This led to a fit of giggling in which Castle was utterly stupefied to hear, followed by a heated make-out season. Once again, he lay curled behind Kate and tickled her navel.

Kate had sat up on her elbows, bemused, clutching the sheets to her chest.

"What _are_ you doing Castle?"

"….nuh-thin'. Just hanging around," he said, sitting up to even himself with her. Smiling, he nuzzled into her neck, and continued to gently draw patterns on her stomach.

"Then explain to me, Castle, why you are _fondling _my belly button" she shot him a glare while suppressing a grin at his antics.

Quick as lightening, Castle grabbed her hips and rolled so he was laying over her. As Kate gasped, Castle swept his hand over her belly button and smiled at her.

"I love it, that's why. It's so adorable and," he paused and placed a chaste kiss on her midriff, "very _beautiful_." he finished breathlessly.

Kate just smiled and mumbled a quick 'thanks' and hugged his torso tightly. He leaned into her, stroking her back with his hands. She knew she had found her 'one and done,' and he, his 'always'.

Now, three years later, he sits by his new daughter's crib and thinks, "My wife's belly button has fierce competition with this one," as he lightly traces the miniscule dot that moves with little Jo's soft breaths.

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_**Thanks, and I hope you enjoyed "Belly Button"!**_

_**Be kind, please review!**_


	3. Cusp

**_hey, it's morethanamuse again!_**

**_not entirely sure how i feel about this drabble, but oh well. (MDH insists that it is brilliant. i dunno about all that...) but anyhow, this is about 300 words of abstract thought. no names, but i know you know who i am talking about. another tiny firefly reference (i think i am going to put something little in most of mine) but its kind of a stretch. whatever. i like it. ;)_**

**_enjoy!_**

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They can both feel it.

In fact, they've both felt it for a while.

That tugging pull, that hounding nudge. Closer and closer, they stand on the cusp, worlds fading around them.

A breath.

Then another.

Looking out into the black, the uncertainty, the fear. Once they are in, they aren't coming back. She is ready to run. He is ready to jump. She doesn't like that she can't see beyond tomorrow. He doesn't like that she feels that way.

That pull.

That _gravity._

No matter what the circumstances, they can no longer deny the force that keeps pulling them back in. No matter how far one goes, they always come back. And the other lets them. They are teetering, the cusp is blurring.

They have defined it one-hundred different ways. He has a hundred words for everything. She has a hundred doubts, but a hundred hopes to go with it.

It is a point that marks the beginning of a change.

But it's not that easy. It is never that easy, nor simple, nor uncomplicated.

But it could be.

If they both jumped at once; one hand, grasping another, trusting themselves to hold the other up. If they are to inevitably fall, is it not better to fall together?

Part of her wants to just let go.

Part of him wants to ask her to.

They can both agree that there are risks. Both the scorching and untouchable possibilities. At some unspoken and spontaneous crossroads, they simultaneously hold on and let go.

Falling from the cusp into a new beginning is easier when there's someone waiting to catch you.

Somehow, being the one to jump, and being the one to catch all at once isn't as difficult as they made it out to be.

How they can seem to be in two places at once, they'll never know.

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_**Be kind, please review! **_

_**Stay tuned for MDH's rendition of 'D' tomorrow! :)**_


	4. Doze

_**Thank you everyone for the alerts, favorites and reviews. Muse and I are having a blast with this, and all of you support makes a happy writer! **_

_**Enjoy.**_

_**(I love this. We get our own built-in BETAs! xD Talk to you more tomorrow! ~MTAM)**_

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All of her life, Katherine Beckett had trouble sleeping. As a child she had nightmares, and would wake up crying for her mother. As she matured, the nightmares decreased until high school when they were almost gone. She had never worried about them, and let life go on. Still, she would wake and feel drained. She would sleep for hours and get up more tired than she started.

Years rolled by and she started college. Kate found her own apartment and had yet to sleep well. Boyfriends came and went, and temporarily acted as a distraction from the poor sleep. She ignored the tired feeling that pulsed behind her head every time she stirred awake, and started to rely heavily on coffee.

But when her mother was taken from her, not only did her entire life shatter, her nightmares came back with a mutated vengeance, in the form of night terrors. If there was little hope before, there was even less hope now that she could fall asleep. She once went through 3 days without sleeping before passing out from pure exhaustion, predictably plagued with visions buried in her subconscious. When she joined the force, she slowly learned how to sleep again, even if it was restlessly. It was better than nothing.

Her life once again moved forward with an unsteady pace, and she tried her hardest to keep up. The night terrors faded to unsystematic nights where Kate couldn't bring herself to lay down for fear of her mind's horror.

After her promotion to 'Detective' some of the nightmares where put to rest. Kate gained confidence in herself as she brought forth justice and truth to those who were so like her all those years ago. Her life moved quickly with a slew of new cases and new people. Her dreams haunted her day by day in the back of her head, but her hopes began to cut through the determined fright. Kate learned how to deal with herself and her dreams. She became better at ignoring the pain that had always inevitably come with sleeping.

And then she met him.

Richard Castle.

To say that he didn't change her would be a lie, just as if he said he was left unscathed by her.

Meeting each other seemed to mend part of their broken selves.

At first Castle had been comic relief, and Kate hid the fact that she began to care for him. His jokes put some of the dread of her nightly tribulations to rest, however ironic it might be.

The pulling of her pigtails so to speak, brought innocence forward, and began to repair some part of the extensive damage that had been wreaked on her. She began to realize that he was the medicine that she had needed for the longest time.

Slowly, she realized that when they were apart, for more than just a night, she couldn't sleep. She didn't even want to try because she knew that sleep would only bring more pain.

That summer was the worst. After he left with his ex-wife, she pushed herself harder and harder. Without him there she forgot to eat, and slept less and less. Kate took more visits to the precinct's gym, and much fewer to her own apartment. Kate began to form a shell. Because when he left, he took part of her.

Later, Kate ignored the suffering as she tried to sleep. She used anything to distract herself, taking more cases and spent more time with Lanie. Club after club, party after party, Kate tried to forget. She met Josh and he was perfect to fill the gap. Entirely different than Castle, but he served as the distraction she desperately needed.

Fall came and things changed again. Castle came back, and Kate couldn't help but him in again. She didn't want him to hurt her like he already had, but somehow she knew if he came back he'd be there for a long time.

Life transformed again, six months later when Kate caught Josh cheating on her with one of the nurses at the hospital. Surprisingly she didn't seem to care. Realizing that Josh wasn't her one and done had happened a month after they met, and when he stepped out, it served as the excuse she'd been trying to create.

She and Castle were once again single, but they were not alone. Neither acknowledged it, but they had each other.

After getting closer, Kate kissed him for the second time in her life, and that night she slept so soundly she was almost late to work.

Castle pursued her with a renewed vigor, knowing that they were playing for keeps.

They were betting on forever.

It was fitting that Kate realized that her one and done had been decided for almost 3 years. It was ironically fitting that the detective who prided herself on her job, and rightfully so, couldn't see that her future was sitting in that chair next to her desk for so long.

And once she realized it, nothing held her back.

Because honestly, she was tired in all senses of the word.

Exhausted of trying to ignore what was there, and of the restlessness nights stemming from the damage wreaked on her heart.

Luckily, fate had decided that Kate wasn't going to be tired anymore. She wasn't going to toss and turn on the brink of sleep. There was a distinct difference between dozing and lying there, half awake. Dozing was much more restful, and fate had finally given them forever to doze side by side in blissful peace.

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_**Make my day, and leave a review? :)**_

_**MDH**_


	5. Eleven

**_So sorry this is a wee bit late, but my muse was hiding. (imagine that, a muse hiding from a Muse. ;) hahaha) Then, when I found her, she completely and totally floored me by running away with this idea! It went in a little bit of a different direction than I planned, but for now, I like it. :)_**

**_I kinda am 'Tarintino-ing it' a bit here, but I went back in time, and I hope it is clear where the timeline is... I did put some markers in there._**

**_Again, no ownership here. Etc. :D_**

**_Enjoy!_**

**_~morethanamuse_**

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**Eleven**

It was 11PM, and there were eleven reasons why she was freaking out.

Reason numbers one through eleven were exactly the same: she had just kissed Richard Castle.

_7:30PM_

They had just closed a particularly rough case on Thursday, and after a long Friday of paperwork, the boys had insisted on some unwind time at the 'Old Haunt,' now a hybrid writer/cop bar. It was fitting, after all, given its owner. With the piano plunking away in the background, the team of detectives, (including their captain) sat merrily at the corner table that was officially for the members of the Twelfth only, and unofficially (and affectionately) nicknamed 'The Sleuth Booth.' Castle, for the moment, was elsewhere, excusing himself earlier to 'attend to some owner-ly duties'.

_8:30PM_

An hour went by, and Beckett was beginning to wonder where in the world he had ran off to. Not that she would admit it, but every few sips or so, her eyes would dart from one end of the bar to the other, scanning for her favorite writer.

"He went to the back about 15 minutes ago," Ryan said to her, without so much as glancing her direction.

"I wasn—"

"Yes, you were." Esposito cut in, eyes still on Lanie, who was currently playing pool with the Captain.

"How did—"

"Oh please," Ryan teased. "You have been twitchy since he left."

"No I have n—"

"Yes you have." Esposito finished, again.

She looked down at her drink, and quickly downed the rest. Somehow, her carefully placed façade was deteriorating. She refused to admit that it had never deterred the boys from knowing exactly what was going on, so that had to be it. She shifted, gathering herself up.

"You two go on assuming, and _I_ am going to get another drink."

The two guys exchanged a knowing look when she turned, only to be caught a moment later.

"You guys want anything?" She glanced back and saw the look they were exchanging, and rolled her eyes. "Are you two girls gonna just gossip all night? Should I get you a couple of Flirtinis? How about Cosmos?" She smirked.

Esposito possessively grabbed his beer and attempted a manly swig. Ryan just sipped his Guinness guiltily.

"Take that as a no…" She gloated.

She swept away, with the intention to go to the bar, but only as a front for what she was really after. The view from the bar was much better than the one at their table, and maybe she could spot Castle. After all, she was only curious what was taking him so long… and to make sure he was okay. Right? She nodded to herself decisively as she walked. After requesting and receiving one very stiff vodka-tonic, she scanned the room again. _Where WAS that man?_

She sipped at her drink, pondering. Her head tilted slightly to the left as she remembered. _The basement!_ Slowly slipping away from the bar, she sneaked around and down the almost uncomfortably narrow stairs. She paused. She heard his voice. She simultaneously tried to suppress a smile, and made a move to turn around. Stopping, she listened for a moment, and she realized that his conversation was one sided. He was on the phone. Not wanting to eavesdrop, nor stick around if it happened to be Gina (or the like) on the other end, she turned and carefully brought her foot to the next stair up, beginning her journey back to the main level. As she put her weight on the step, the old wooden thing creaked. Loudly. Wincing to herself, she stopped in her tracks, hoping he hadn't heard anything.

If only she were that lucky.

"Is someone there?" He called out.

She stood still, sending up silent prayers to a deity that she wasn't sure existed.

"Hello?" He sounded startled now, apprehensive. Rightfully so, considering the last owner got offed. She heard his footsteps approaching and decided to try her best to soften the inevitable heart-attack she was about to cause him.

"Castle?" She said gently.

He had just come into view, phone still at his ear, and visibly jumped at the sound of her voice. She smiled.

"Oh, Beckett. Phew. I wasn't sure what I heard."

"I just wanted to see if you were okay. But I see you're on the phone, so I'll just meet you back upstairs."

"Unnecessary. Alexis and I were just finishing up."

_Ah. Alexis. _

"Are you sure?"

"Yep." He extended a hand, aiming to help her down the innerving stairs in her heels. She warily took it, and sat down when he guided her to the couch that was adjacent to his office desk.

"Lex? Yeah, sorry. It was just Beckett. Yeah, she's fine. We're at the Haunt. Oh yeah. Mmmhmm. You have fun, okay? Thanks for calling. Sometimes I don't know what I did to deserve such a good kid." Beckett smiled at this. "Love you too. Tell Ashley I say hello. Yes, I'll tell her. Bye, Pumpkin."

He clicked the phone, ending the call. "Alexis says 'hi'," he smiled.

"That was nice of her. Is everything okay?" she asked, her eyes wandering around the room.

"Yeah, she just wanted to let me know they were going to going back to Ashley's for a while after they got back from the movie." He laughed. "I meant it. I have no idea how she's my child sometimes."

"I know, no 'wildly inappropriate stories'… that you know of!" Beckett smirked.

"No, no, no, no, no! La-la-la-la-la!" He grimaced and put his fingers in his ears. "I don't want to hear it!"

Beckett laughed wholeheartedly. "Okay, okay. Don't have a conniption. I'll stop, I'll stop!" She said between laughs.

He looked at her doubtingly, but she did the 'zip my lip and throw away the key' gesture, so he figured he was safe. An idea popped into his head.

"Say, speaking of wildly inappropriate…"

"Castle," she warned.

He continued, undeterred. "I shared mine, you should share yours."

"What?"

"I told you, well, more like you found out, my wildly inappropriate stories, like my naked horse-capades…" he trailed, waggling his eyebrows, "It's only fair that you tell me a couple!"

"Yeah. As if!" She looked at him like he was crazy.

"You can dish it out but you sure can't take it," he said teasingly. "Wait. Flip that." He winked.

Beckett smirked the tiniest of smirks (not unseen by Castle,) as she thought about it. How could she get away with this without divulging too much. More importantly, how could she _win?_ Oh, she knew how she could win. He was too easy.

"Okay, Castle. I'll tell you one, teeny, tiny story."

His eyes grew wide. She rolled hers.

"If," she stood up and put her hands on her hips, "you play pool with me."

"Done," he said, automatically. "Wait. What's the catch?" He asked, realizing that she could have easily set a trap for him.

"No catch. Just a nice, friendly game of pool." Her tone had dropped to almost a lyrical murmur. She set her drink down and began to unbutton her blouse. His eyes were unashamedly glued to her form. She smirked before pulling it off all together, only to reveal a fairly modest, black ribbed tank top.

"Chill, Castle. I can't play pool in that blouse. Too restrictive." She bit her lip as she picked her glass back up, and then took the last sip of her vodka-tonic. She turned briskly and waltzed towards the stairs, leaving Castle in a near-puddle on the floor.

"You coming?"

Castle mostly tripped over his feet in order to follow her, murmuring something about her being a tease, but still eager for this rare sneak peek into her past.

Little did he know, that she had more than a game of pool up her non-existent sleeve.

_To be continued… _

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**_Yes, yes. MTAM is evil, etc. :D I have been up WAY too long to coherently finish, PLUS, this was turning into a monster of a one-shot. I will continue later, I PROMISE. :)_**

**_Be kind, please review!_**


	6. Fairytale

**Hey guys, sorry for the wait. I was gone all day Friday, and then I was sick on Saturday (even though I thought I sent this to Muse Dx ) But hopefully this makes up for the wait... (:**

**Here is F - - **_**Fairytale.**_

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This is not a fairytale.

Life doesn't always have a knight to save the fair maiden, or a sidekick to protect you from the dragons.

Life isn't a fairytale. It's a nightmare.

Once upon a time there was a beautiful couple who lived with their daughter Katie. Since her birth they were a happy family, spending time together, and loving each other like a family should. The family was content in their home and spent Katie's

formative years laughing and occasionally crying together, proving the meaning of family.

Later in life, Katie had grown to an adult, and moved out of their house. Her departure still didn't stop the family from their loving ways, and they meet weekly for a family dinner.

But one fateful night, Katie's mother was nowhere to be found. Katie and her father were stupefied and very worried. They went to their home, hoping to find their beloved Johanna but instead found a man by the name of Raglan.

Raglan explained that Johanna was cruelly taken from them, never to be seen again.

That night, Katie and her father were broken.

Utterly and unimaginably torn to pieces.

You may believe that everybody has a fairytale, but you are sadly misinformed... Because this isn't a fairytale.

Her mother was not the only one that disappeared that night. Katie and her father also vanished. The man who slayed her mother left a fragmented family in his path, shells of who they had been.

Katie's fairytale disappeared.

A tale of desperation has since been woven. Katie's life was transformed into a living hell, as she watched her father's monsters crawl from the hole in his heart. He was overrun by the demons his wife's death had left.

But Katie couldn't—no, wouldn't, meet the same fate as he did. She would fight harder than she ever had before and she would find the person who had taken their mother and wrecked their family.

And so Katie set forth in her goal to vanquish the demons that were tearing a void in her life. She would keep going if it meant dying to bring her mother's death justice.

Katie turned into Beckett, and from then on kept what was left of her fragile heart in a steel box. The box was hidden deep inside of her; only to be viewed in the darkest of nights where Beckett could remember the happiness it once held.

This box was indestructible, forged by tears and sobs, and the view of Beckett's father shuddering from his own monsters. It stood for what Katie has transformed into, what she _had_to be: the unbreakable person that was once a carefree daughter.

Because Katie died when Johanna did.

Katie, the wild child who laughed and cried with her family, was gone; to be seen in the hardest of nights, and what was left was Beckett, the woman who had a dark past and a permanent void in her heart.

Life seemed to move on slowly. Beckett immersed herself in the facts, the evidence. She memorized every piece, searching for that ultimate fragment that would reveal the person that had taken everything away.

But she couldn't find it. Hours, days, years passed and she scoured the case file over and over, crashing late at night with the worn papers clutched in her fingers, hoping she would wake up and find that her mother was sitting next to her, after a bad dream.

But this isn't a fairytale. Her mother, her family- her life was gone.

She graduated and joined the police academy. Her drive brought her to the top in every field, and she quickly became a rookie. She met Royce and for once she seemed happier, if only a little bit.

Royce had seen things. A lot of things, things that make you cringe. Royce protected Beckett, and helped her learn the ropes. They were friends, and she started to fall for him. For once she was falling into happiness instead of down the deep hole of despair. For once she looked forward to waking up.

But this isn't a fairytale.

Soon her smile faded, just as quickly as it appeared. Her nightmare haunted her once again, torturing what was left of her hidden heart.

The missing fragment taunted her, made fun of every theory that she came up with. In the darkest of nights she would cry. But only then, because the darkness hid her weakness. The shadows of the nightfall hid her as she felt Katie deep somewhere inside of her. It swallowed her flaws whole, and in the morning light she was once again unperturbed Beckett.

Because this isn't a fairytale.

Promotions boosted her towards her goal. She was finally given the title of Detective.

Detective Beckett would surely find the evil that had taken her entire life away. Detective Beckett was strong, and independent.

Detective Beckett wasn't Katie. She wasn't anyone anymore. She was Justice, and Truth. She gave Katie a voice… Detective Beckett gave family a voice, she gave closure.

Because that was all Katie ever wanted.

Justice.

Truth.

Closure.

All Katie wanted was a reason—a reason why her life was ripped apart, a reason for her horror.

So Detective Beckett gave Katie what she wanted.

What she had to have.

The pursuer of Honesty and Fact; that was Detective Beckett.

That was what she had to be, what her life had turned into. A bad dream.

Because this isn't a fairytale.

This is a nightmare, and happiness only ever comes when you wake.

So Katie, and Detective Beckett—they waited.

Waited until finally that missing piece came through, and finally they would awake from this God awful nightmare.

But this isn't a fairytale.

There are no knights in shining armor, and you don't slay dragons.

This is a nightmare and there are Detectives, and facts, and you have to slay the monsters that hide inside of you.

Because this isn't a fairytale.

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**Be honest. ****Did you like it?**

**~MDH**


	7. Game

**_morethanamuse here, again!_**

**_This turned into a huuuuuuge continuation of 'Eleven...' hence why it took me a bit longer. So I will save you from my babbling, and get right to the point. G is for 'Game'! _**

**_Enjoy!_**

**_(If I owned Castle, I think I'd probably be writing for that, not here, don't you? Well, that might be a lie, because this is fun as hell! ;) haha!)_**

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**Game**

**_9:45 pm_**

Kate leaned over the pool table to line up for a shot, well aware that Castle's gaze was attached to the way her jeans were hugging her backside. She had caught him staring many a-time before, and decided that, just for tonight (because of the alcohol fuzzing her brain, of course), she wasn't going to do anything to deter him. Sinking another ball, she stalked to the other side of the table and took her extra shot, just barely missing the intended pocket.

"Your turn, Mr. Castle," she purred. Although he snapped-to quickly, her trained eye didn't miss his nearly undetectable internal shake to clear the fog he was in from staring at her. He moved swiftly and efficiently, sinking two more of his own solids to her stripes.

"I do believe that makes us even," he said smoothly, glancing in her direction. He knew exactly what game she was playing with him. The game she had started from the moment she had started undoing her blouse downstairs; a game that was definitely _not _pool. Two could definitely play at this, and that was exactly what he was doing. He had watched her, more than once, falter just a touch, after something provocative had escaped his mouth. He had felt her shiver when his breath had grazed her ear when he had leaned into her space (for absolutely no reason other than to be heard over the noise of the bar, of course) to ask her if she wanted to 'rack 'em or smack 'em' to start off the game.

From Kate's point of view, her plan, so far, was working. Or so it seemed. She was doing a fantastic job of distracting Castle from his goal of getting a story out of her. They had kept pretty even; Kate only being ahead by three for a short while, and Castle had had quickly caught right back up. She had recognized that he was playing with her right back, brushing up against her when he could, and sending seductive looks across the table from time to time. He smoldered, and Kate could feel herself melting. But it was all a game, right? Nothing more than him continuing to pry, and her continuing to defend her secrets.

But what exactly was he trying to pry from her? Did he really want to just hear a wild story? Or was he prying in a different fashion?

Before she could get too lost in her philosophies about the subject, he nudged against her again, his hip bumping hers playfully.

"Kate, your turn." His voice dripped from his lips sweet and dark, like chocolate. She wondered for half a second if they would taste as good as they sounded. She slunk around the table towards the cue ball. There were only three balls left. In addition to the eight ball, his lucky number seven against her unlucky thirteen; an instance not unnoticed by him. "Unlucky thirteen. I do believe I have the advantage here, Detective."

"I prefer to make my own luck," she smirked, sinking the ball cleanly. She looked up at him, the teasing gleam fighting to shine through the darker look that lurked in her eyes. "This could be it. I sink the eight ball, and it's all over. Then you'll realize you were sorely mistaken to think you even had a chance to win over me," her words flowed languidly, still keeping up what she was still trying to convince herself was a clever ruse.

Not missing a beat, he stepped towards her. "We never talked about what your prize would be if you happened to win," he smiled. Her insides did a flip flop. That smile always did funny things to her, because it was the smile that she had never seen him direct at anyone else. It was her own secret smile, and whether he knew he was doing it or not, she could detect it every time, and every time, it turned her a little bit mushy. She blinked and regained her composure before speaking.

"Don't you worry about that. We'll talk about it after I kick your ass," she winked. He did a double-take. Not only did Beckett barely ever swear, but she definitely never winked.

_Pulling out the big guns, is she now?_ He thought.

He had long since removed his jacket and rolled up his sleeves, so removing more clothing was pretty much out. What could he do to even the playing field a little more? His eyes followed her as she lined up for her next shot. His mind moved in a flash, and his feet moved to catch up with his thought. He leaned beside her, nearly trapping her between himself and the table.

"What is your fascination with withholding information from me?" His low voice and his timing must have been perfect, because she completely missed her target.

She turned excruciatingly slowly, a glare in her eyes, and her lips formed in a perfect pout. She raised her eyebrows. "Really? You're going to sink that low to win?"

"Oh Detective, I don't think you know how _low_ I plan on sinking tonight."

Beckett couldn't help it; her jaw dropped in shock. He was being incredibly forward tonight! While she was standing there, dumbfounded, he took the opportunity to make his shot and sunk his last ball, but missed sinking the eight ball just as Beckett did.

"Well it's good to know that I didn't even have to distract you for you to miss," she quipped, fully recovered once again. He made a face at her and she took her turn, forcing herself to focus on her shot, and not on how impossibly close he still was. Taking a breath, she called the pocket, and clipped the ball into the one she predicted.

"Game," she said, leaning the pool stick against him, as he stood there taking in the fact that he had lost. She sauntered back to the bar, grabbing a beer on her way back to the table. He hurriedly followed, only to find that she wasn't sitting, and instead, searching her pockets for something.

"Lose something?" He asked.

"Certainly not the game," she said saucily. "I think I left my phone downstairs in your office." She looked at him. "But I really have to go to the restroom; those drinks are catching up with me. Can you run down and get it for me?" He started to protest but she cut him off. "C'mon, Castle. It's the least you can do. I _did_ win, after all." He sulked as she headed towards the bathroom, and when she heard his footsteps head in the opposite direction, she turned to look over her shoulder. When she saw the top of his head disappear down the stairs, she turned on the ball of her foot to follow him.

She stealthy descended the stairs for the second time that night, lingering a moment or two on the stairs before actually arriving in the office.

"Did you find it?"

"Beckett! Geez. You gotta stop lurking in the stairs. You're going to give me a heart attack!" Castle sputtered.

"Sorry," She laughed. "That is the second time tonight, I guess."

"You guess?" He huffed playfully. "But no, I didn't find it. Are you sure you left it here?"

"Pretty sure," she half sing-songed. She began to half-heartedly 'look' too.

"So, you won."

"Yep, I kicked your ass."

"Hey, I put up a good fight!" He said, mocking hurt.

"Eeh, I can't admit that. I have an reputation to uphold."

"Yes, but it's just you and me down here."

"That it is," she agreed, leaving out the part where that was exactly how she planned it.

"So, what's my punishment for losing? Another story? A foot rub? A strip tease?" He waggled his eyebrows.

"You wish," she said simply.

"C'mon on. You won, fair and square. If I'd won, I would have held you to telling me one of your stories."

"Yes, but I never stated a prize for myself. Let's just say I get the satisfaction on winning," she stated, still pretending to look for her 'misplaced' phone.

"You're no fun!" He stopped looking and pretended to pout.

She rolled her eyes. "Am I not?" She took a decisive step towards him, then another.

He picked up quick. "Your phone isn't down here, is it?"

"Nnnn-nope." She dug it out of her pocked and waved it in front of his face.

"So you told me to go down here in order to get me alone, now didn't you, Detective? Very sly." She smirked. "You got me alone, and now I have to wonder; why?"

"I decided what I want."

"For your epic win today on the battlefield of the pool table?" He smiled broadly and took a step towards her.

"Among other things."

"So Detective, please enlighten me. I'll do what I can to give you _exactly_ what you want."

The corners of her lips began to twitch slightly upwards. She took one more slow step, and suddenly, the distance between them vanished, and her lips pressed against his. He was noticeably thrown from the pounce she made, but recovered quickly, his hands flying up to wind in her hair, pulling her as close as he could. She had one hand hooked on his shoulder and the other was on his neck, her fingers playing in his hair. Their lips moved together, tongues venturing out tentatively to taste the other. She swept her tongue across his bottom lip, causing him to groan softly and open his mouth just enough for her to explore more of him. She latched on more intensely, pulling the same lip in between her teeth and nibbling a little before releasing it and pulling back for a moment to study him.

"Kate, I—" He started.

"Shh. No talking." She saw the look of genuine affection in his eyes, and took that as enough of an excuse to keep on kissing him. That was all she really needed, because to be honest, she wasn't ready to stop.

The clouds in her head gathered once again as she grabbed his collar and pulled his mouth to hers once again. This time, he was more assertive, dipping his tongue against her lip and in to touch hers, and after a moment, drew away from her lips to plant languid, open mouthed kisses down her jaw and to her neck. She let out the most beautiful and breathy moan as he found her pulse point and sucked on it when he felt her shiver in indication of the sensitive spot. He felt like he knew her inside and out, from the way he was so easily able to read her the first time they _really_ kissed. Her fingers wound in his hair as she tossed back her head and let out another sigh that was pure music to his ears. He began to work his way across the collar of her tank top, and back up the other side of her neck. He moved to her jaw, peppering it with sweeter, smaller kisses, and back to her mouth, dragging his lips lazily against hers once more, teasing, tasting. She whimpered, an audible plea that indicated that her body was getting ahead of her mind.

Reluctantly, he pulled away as their kisses slowed to a stop. He didn't want to go to fast; not with Kate. If they slept together right now, on the couch that they had somehow backed up and fallen onto, it would only confirm her fears that he just wanted to 'get her out of his system,' and be done with her. He wanted to show her that 'getting her out of his system' was the absolute last thing he ever wanted to do.

"Kate," he whispered again, against her lips.

"Mmm?" She couldn't form words at the moment, so a hum of acknowledgement would have to suffice.

"Not that I'm complaining, but… Well, what in the world was that all about?" He winced, knowing that he probably shouldn't ask any questions at the moment, but he was so damn curious.

"What?"

"I mean, I liked it, and I have to admit, I've been wanting to do that for a while, but—what made you—"

"Castle." She cut him off.

"Yeah?"

"What did I say about talking?"

"To not to."

"Yes." She claimed his mouth with hers again, but only for a moment, hoping to convey what she wanted to say, but couldn't quite form into words yet. She wanted to be kissing him. She liked him. Yes, 'like that.' Hell, she was well on her way to loving him, but that was something she couldn't even think yet. They would have a conversation, and they both knew it, but just not yet. She knew all of that would come across without her saying it, because he could read her eyes like a book.

"Okay," he said in affirmation when she pulled away. They stayed there for a minute or two, before he spoke again. "I know I'm breaking the rules, but it's been a hell of a week, and I think I should be getting home." He faltered, unsure of how to say what he wanted to express. "But I don't want to leave you quite yet," he admitted.

She smiled. Truthfully, she didn't want to leave him quite yet either. She decided that since he probably deserved a break tonight, of all nights, she would give him one.

"As long as I get to pick the movie, we can go back to your place." She wanted to be clear that she would go home with him, but not _go home with him._ She knew he would respect her wishes, but she had to make sure she was understood.

His face lit up and he said, "Okay! As long as we can have popcorn!"

She laughed and kissed his cheek audaciously. "That works. I'm going to need something to soak up the alcohol I drank tonight."

"You're not—"

"No, Castle. I'm not drunk and kissing you wasn't a drunk mistake," she clarified, watching the panic melt from his face.

"Alright, Detective. Let's go." She smiled, took his hand and stood up, marveling at how easy the shift from 'partners' to 'something more' was… at least so far.

**_11:00 PM_**

As Kate sat in the booth, waiting for Castle to ring out and get ready to leave, the implications of what she had just done began to settle in her brain. It was 11PM, and there were eleven reasons why she was freaking out. Reason numbers one through eleven were exactly the same: she had just kissed Richard Castle. She had just kissed Richard Castle twice. Well, three times if you count— Kate shook her head to clear her worry. Everything was going to be fine… right?

They took a cab home, and she was still on edge the entire way. At his loft, they settled in, Kate picking the first 'Pirates of the Caribbean' movie, saying that way, they could watch the second and the third if they so chose without having to decide what movie to play after the first one was over.

At first, they had tentatively sat next to each other, but as the film wore on, boundaries and lines blurred much as they had earlier and they ended up wrapped around each other. Her freaking out had long subsided, and eventually, they fell asleep together, halfway through 'Dead Man's Chest.'

_**1:45AM**_

Alexis and Ashley snuck into the Castle loft, after having fallen asleep to their own movie at Ashley's place. He had insisted on taking her home given the late hour, and Castle's failure to answer his phone. Now they found both him and Kate curled into each other on the couch, a blanket half hanging off of them. Alexis had to cover her mouth to suppress a squeal. She had been waiting for her dad and Kate to make some sort of advancement in their relationship for a while now. Ashley looked over at her.

"That's the detective he's always going on about, isn't it?" It was more a statement than a question.

"Yup," she answered in a whisper.

"I'm guessing from the look on your face this is a new development?"

"Yup," Alexis whispered again, the only word she could manage.

"Well, new or not, they sure look like they've got it bad, don't they?" He smiled at his girlfriend, pleased to see her so happy about her dad.

"Yup, they sure do," she smiled, leaning into him. She kissed him quickly and thanked him for bringing her home. Once he had gone, she locked the door and tiptoed past the sleeping couple on the couch.

When she got upstairs she tapped on her grandmother's door, seeing her light on under her door. When the older redhead murmured a 'Come in, dear' she entered with a huge grin on her face.

"Grams! Dad and Detective Beckett are curled up on the couch!"

"Oh I know, dear. I heard them come in," she smiled back at Alexis. "I know. Finally, right?"

"Finally," she agreed, hugging her tightly before practically skipping to her room.

**_2:00 AM_**

Downstairs, Beckett shifted. She felt like she had heard something, but quickly dismissed it in her half-asleep stupor. She was too ridiculously comfortable to even think about moving. She felt Rick tighten his arm around her and couldn't help but smile. All of those thoughts she had before they left the bar were so childish and frankly, outrageous. She didn't trust anyone more than him, and his arms around her just made her feel even safer. She smiled again, and nuzzled against him a little more. Since she didn't have anywhere to be tomorrow for once, she just let herself be, and slipped back into a warm, inviting sleep.

* * *

**_I hope you loved it! Let me know what you think- I spent a bunch of time trying to get it right for you, dear readers! :)_**

**_~MTAM_**

**_ps- wow, I must have been more tired last night than I thought! I fixed the mistakes that I found, but be sure to let me know if there are more. _**

**_pps- we see you out there, yeah. don't think we can't see you. we've got connections, you know. _****_we have a ton of hits on this story and a bunch of alerts too... and only a fraction of reviews. tell me why that is? ;) _**

**_but seriously, though. reviews really help us out! :)_**


	8. Hands

_**I just want to take a moment and thank Muse, my bb over here for all of her hard BETA work. She is a ball buster, and I love it! Keeps me in tip-top shape ;) and I want to thank each and every person who has reviewed, favorited, or alerted this collection thus far... You make us smile :D**_

_**~MDH**_

* * *

_If you ever need a helping hand, you will find one at the end of each of your arms._

_~Audrey Hepburn_

_..._

Sometimes when they are working she daydreams about his hands. They are one of the most important assets a human has after all. And his—well his hands are very important.

His hands give her coffee every day, day after day. Always. (Every time their fingers touch she tries not to grin.)

His hands write the books that changed—well, _change_ her life. (They seem unreal. Magical, even. Although she doesn't believe in "magic.")

One of them almost constantly brushes against her knuckles whenever they are walking. (He thinks she doesn't notice, or doesn't care. But she does. She does notice. She does care. A lot.)

The other one has wiped that miniscule amount of sweet and sour sauce from her lips. (Even if she would rather that hand be replaced by his lips.)

They send a tingle across her spine when he helps her with her coat. (She likes that too. She won't tell him though. She has to have some secrets.)

They put a smile on her face when he plays Angry Birds on his phone, and they repeatedly stab at the screen. (She secretly wants to play the new levels just to see the joy on his face. But she won't tell him that.)

Those hands of his are sneaky little fellows, because when the reach up to touch her cheek for a split second, she always has trouble fighting the huge smile that wants to burst forward. (One day, she'll stop fighting that smile. She doesn't have all of the self-control in the world.)

She thought at first that his hands would be rough and tough-skinned. After all he is "ruggedly handsome."

But those hands of his are warm and smooth. She'd describe them as calm, and inviting. Like a roaring fire in a snowstorm, or one of his hugs when she can't handle it anymore.

In a way, his hands reflect his personality. At first they seem callous and coarse, but when you finally get to know them, they are a safe haven.

Serene, welcoming, caring.

A constant.

Kate needs a constant. An always.

* * *

_**So... thoughts? I didn't really like this one. Thanks and have a wonderful day (:**_

_**~MDH**_

_****__**[she is CRAZY. this one ROCKS :) -MTAM]**_  



	9. Icarus

_**I can't tell you how much trouble I had with something so short. Ask MDH, she'll tell you! I wrestled and wrestled, but I think I won. :)**_

**_Oh, and if you are unfamiliar with who 'Icarus' is, Google it. :D_**

**_~morethanamuse_**

**_Enjoy 'Icarus'_**

* * *

Icarus flew too close to the sun, and fell into the belly of the sea. Kate Beckett flew too close to the truth and fell into the belly of despair.

Icarus fell, and there was no one to catch him other than the black cold of the ocean. When Kate fell for the first time, the only one who could catch her was herself.

Icarus only fell once. Kate fell many times.

Icarus drowned. So did Kate.

Icarus never surfaced. Kate did.

Icarus' wings were made of wax and feathers. Kate's wings were made of determination and hardened tears.

Icarus' father had fashioned his wings to help him escape their exile. Kate fashioned her wings to help her father escape the bottle.

Icarus' wings melted in the searing intensity of the midday sun. Kate's wings melted in the searing intensity of overturned secrets.

The sea only ate Icarus one blue skied afternoon. The writhing pit of Kate's emotions ate at her on a daily basis since her mother had passed.

Icarus has been written about for centuries. Kate has been written about for a much shorter time.

Icarus never knew those who he provided with inspiration. Kate worked side by side with the man who called her his muse.

The world turned in ignorance as Icarus began to descend into the dark water. A certain writer's world spun in concern as Kate began to slip into her own abyss.

Icarus was fished out of the sea and his tomb was constructed of stone, to sleep forever in cold confinement. Kate was fished out of that place she withdrew into, and was offered a warm sanctuary of security.

Icarus only received flowers on his grave. Kate received flowers and a smile, and a promise of 'always'.

Kate is not unlike Icarus, but she is not one in the same. One day, rising above will not mean crashing back down. And until that day arrives (and even after), she won't have to do it alone.

She doesn't know that yet.

But she will.

* * *

_**So, what's the verdict? Did I win this round? :D**_

_**Much love!**_

_**~MTAM**_


	10. Juxtaposition

_**So, this one is weird. And basically my muse (no not you Muse) left me looking at this and going "What?" So I am leaving this here for now, and you can just uh, read it I guess...**_

_**So here goes nothing: Juxtaposition **_

_**(:**_

* * *

"You know that you don't even compare to the others, right KB?"

She shot him a look from her position at the stove as he chopped the vegetables for their stir-fry. "That sounds strangely like an insult Castle, I'd tread lightly here."

His eyes widened as he thought about his sentence, and the fingers that were holding a ripe tomato slipped. His face started to become the same shade as the veggie—fruit rather, that lay before him. As his mouth moved and tried to start a sentence, Kate sauntered up to him.

"Developing a stutter there, Rick?" She placed a chaste kiss on the side of his flabbergasted mouth and spoke again. "Want to explain yourself, kitten?"

Rick's eyes slipped closed as he gathered himself. He would drop dead from her antics one day.

"No, listen—what I meant to say, KB, is that none of them compare to you," He shot her a grin and moved closer to her. "You win every time, no matter what. There isn't any juxtaposition there. Just you, because you're extraordinary. You always blow them outta the water."

A small smile formed on her face as she sidled up to her fiancé. Slowly the smile blossomed into a full blown grin as his arms circled her waist.

"You know for a world famous, bestselling author, you have a little difficulty with words. I wasn't sure what you were implying," her eyes roamed over her face down to his lips, "I wasn't sure what to make of your sentence." Their lips drew closer and closer until their breath mingled together. Suddenly she turned in his arms and walked back to the stove checking on their dinner.

Once again Rick tried to put himself together. "You are a tease, woman. And you should know by now that there isn't any comparison to them.

They meant nothing in juxtaposition to you." His lips curved upwards again into that ruggedly handsome smirk of his.

"There you go again with your 5 syllable vocabulary. Must you always be Richard Castle, author extraordinaire?" Crossing her arms she leaned against the countertop. She was a vision in her lounge wear – which consisted of his Yankees t-shirt and gray polka dotted panties – a towel casually draped over her shoulder.

Domestic.

Homey.

It was a beautiful sight to behold and Rick fought the urge to sigh at his fortune.

"Why yes, my sweet fiancée, unless you want to reduce me to those monosyllabic words we exchanged an hour ago. I won't object, if that is what you wish," another smirk was sent her way.

Two could play at that game.

"Rick, baby, I honestly don't think that you could handle me and one syllable words again so soon. Or rather," she shot him a searing look, "moans."

Her work paid off when his jaw dropped and he immediately walked up to her. She grinned. Easy as pie, she thought haughtily.

Kate's confident thoughts came to an abrupt halt, though, when his hands went to her ass and lifted her up against him. As her legs wrapped around his waist, his lips started a torturous glide across her collar bone.

Five minutes later, breathless, Rick rushed to the stove where the pan with their dinner smoked.

Kate grinned and once again leaned against the countertop.

After beating down the flames that was once their dinner, he spoke again.

"I meant it Kate. There is no comparison to you. I cannot even place you next to anyone. You broke the system."

Another grin, and more kisses lead them to the bedroom for a little more fun with monosyllabic words, leaving little room for thoughts of comparisons.

_Juxtaposition-smuxtaposition._

* * *

_**So anyhow, I hoped you enjoyed Juxtaposition, and lemme tell you: this one gave me some grief (;**_

_**how bout leaving a review and brightening my day?**_

_**~MDH**_


	11. Knot

**_Buckle up, kids! Time for some ACTION! :D _**

**_AKA, please notice that this chapter has officially made the rating for this story bump up to 'M'. _**

**_If you don't like smut/sexual situations, or are too young to read about such things (I'm looking at YOU, '17 and under' crowd), kindly skip this chapter, and something less smuttly will be heading your way tomorrow. :) ..._****_(and yes, I am aware that 17 and under know about/have/have read about sex, but I'm just covering my ass. don't hate!) _**

**_Enjoy 'Knot!'_**

**_~MTAM_**

* * *

Two pairs of legs were knotted together in heavy, labored exhaustion.

Almost three hours earlier, they had stumbled into her apartment, connected from the waist up, after the longest cab ride of their lives. Holding themselves in check half for the cabbie's benefit, and half for their own, they had almost accomplished the impossible task of not touching the entire ride. That was, until he made the mistake of reaching back to help her out when they arrived, and they had been falling off the edge ever since. One touch of their hands, intertwined at the fingers had sent them from teetering to downright plummeting into the place they were sure to go.

Three years of sexual tension in and out of work, and a nearly two months into taking their first step, the so-called honeymoon phase was still upon them, with some kind of unfathomable and unquenchable vengeance. It was like they were making up for lost time, and to say that they were going at it like bunnies would be a grave understatement. No surface was left untouched, especially at her place. The bed, (of course) the shower, the kitchen counter, the couch, the floor in the main room, the floor of her bedroom, the bathroom and the bathroom counter, the oversized chair, and (even though it's not really a 'surface') up against the wall (a personal favorite of Kate's).

Tonight, they hadn't made it as far as her bed, so the couch was going to have to do. She would have gladly gone for a round against the wall, because it was fast, and because that was how much she needed him, and needed him _now. _She had no idea that Rick's need to taste her was greater. They fell onto the couch, clothing flying unceremoniously this way and that. They had their nights when undressing each other was a tantalizing game of foreplay, but tonight was not one of them. The fire had escaladed way beyond that.

After kissing down her body, he had pushed her as high up the couch as she would go. Her long hair had fallen behind the couch as she draped her head over it when she arched her back. Her hips lifted slightly and he let out a low rumble of a chuckle at the question her body was asking before enveloping her with his mouth.

She had groaned out his name before she even realized what she'd done. Each time he tasted her was like the first. Each session was as if it were completely and totally different from the others. He knew exactly where to go, exactly what to touch, and exactly how to tease her very being onto the rickety edge of sanity.

He pressed his tongue flat against her, knowing the more surface touching her, the more her pleasure. She whimpered in need, encouraging him more. Suddenly there was more pressure, and his fingers were inside her, pressing upwards into that spot that would drive her absolutely wild. After swirling his tongue over her a few moments more, he simultaneously drove his fingers upward rubbing them as hard as he could against her, and sucked her into his mouth again and again.

She was done for. She exploded completely, hips bucking, letting out one of the most drawn out and ecstasy filled moans he had ever heard. He continued what he was doing, unwilling to hinder the waves that were short-circuiting her brain in any fashion. Finally, her shuddering slowed, and her arms, exhausted from holding herself up on the back of the couch, collapsed. She sunk down the couch as he sat up, eyes gleaming.

She sat there and just breathed for a full minute, almost to the point where Rick had thought she had fallen asleep. He moved to brush a strand of hair away from her face, and her eyes shot open, desire dark and eminent from deep within.

"I thought you'd passed out on me," he breathed, as she drew him towards her.

"Not on your life."

Before he could blink, she had flipped him, and they shot off into oblivion once more. She kissed him dizzyingly while grinding her hips into him so hard that she nearly went over again. He groaned into her lips, and she knew what he was pleading for, even without comprehensible words.

Without any real warning, (which was seeming to become a theme that night) she sunk down onto him, her warm weight enveloping him completely, and his eyes blinked open and then fell closed just as quickly as he moaned his appreciation. She rode him expertly, rolling her hips and experimenting with new angles. All he could do was groan ever so often, and open his eyes to watch the flawless beauty that was Kate Beckett on top of him.

When he had first called her 'extraordinary', he should have known it would have extended this far in definition.

Soon, he had them turned, her firm backside pressing against his stomach, pounding into her almost sideways, he hoisted her leg up and held it there under his arm so his length would press into her sweet spot with each hit. She was so close, shaking involuntarily beneath him, and he could feel his undoing was right around the corner. When he opened his eyes to look at her, finding that her hand had slipped downward, helping herself along, he became unraveled. He closed his eyes tightly and slammed himself into her, as she felt her let go. He wasn't far behind, tumbling after her. When they both stilled, they collapsed in a knot of arms and legs.

Eventually, they untangled from the couch and with renewed vigor, attempted to make it to her bedroom. They were unsuccessful, stopping in the hallway to use the wall as a perfect prop for her hand while he filled her again and again from behind. When her legs buckled at their second (or was it third?) release, he swept her off her feet and carried her to the bed, actually arriving at their destination this time.

After a few moments of damp, heavy breaths, she turned to him with a vixen-ish smirk.

"Oh, you _got _to be kidding me." Rick deadpanned.

All he got was a smirk and a pounce as she jumped him again, bouncing so forcefully on top of him that it took them only a minute or two before they were an inch from catapulting over the edge again. He looked her directly in the eye, and rolled them so they were on their sides again, this time, facing each other. She hiked a leg over and across his back, clamping it as hard as she could, drawing him into her with each thrust. His leg reached too, over her leg that was still on the bed, giving himself more leverage to pull out further, and in deeper. Each stroke was his entire length, filling her and emptying her in turn. His hand found a nipple, teasing it and stacking it on top of all the other sensations he was producing in her. His other hand was around her neck and buried in her hair, gripping her head tighter and tighter. One of her hands was gripping his backside below her leg, another means of holding him closer, and the other was in his hair, grabbing fistfuls as she moaned against his neck. He brought her mouth to his, and moaned '_Kate…_' and her muscles clenched. From that moment, they were both gone. She shuttered and shook, riding wave after wave, his name spilling from her lips. He quaked, his hips moving of their own volition now, almost growling into her mouth as he followed her in suit.

They both stopped moving altogether all at once, letting out a single breath. Too spent to move, too exhausted to detangle.

"Kate," he finally whispered, her name dropping from his lips like a prayer. All she could manage was a groan.

After a few moments, she finally found her voice.

"Remind me to always do my bar trick for you," she mumbled, barely audible.

Because, in truth, that bar trick was the catalyst for the entire evening. The look he gave her when she presented the stem, tied neatly in a knot on her tongue was enough to make heat pool inside her, and promptly give him a look that said, "We need to go. _Now."_

And so, a knot had lead to a very different kind of knot.

One that exhaustion had make it impossible to untangle.

And in the morning, that knot would morph into another knot completely.

One that had been a long time in the making, and one that had becoming so tangled, so completely twisted together, that there was no undoing it.

After all, bodies were much easier to untangle than hearts.

* * *

**_Let me know what you think! Reviews are love, and I'm giving out a free glass of ice water with each one! ;)_**

**_~MTAM_**


	12. Liar

_**Here is the next installment... Thanks for your continued support and give a round of applause to Muse for staying up late to help me (: what would we do without her?**_

_**~MDH**_

* * *

_**Liar**_

Castle jumped as the door to the loft slammed.

_Uh-oh. _Rick thought. _Kate is not too happy right now._

As if sensing his thoughts, she stormed into his office.

"You're a liar. I can't believe you!"

Double taking, he spoke quickly.

"Wait, what did I do now?" Clearly he was confused. But then again he always was.

"I told you, _not to do it_, and you promised you wouldn't! Really, Castle?" She was unmistakably exasperated (once again) by his antics.

"Why can't you listen to me for once in your life?" Her hands found her hips, fingers tapping heatedly, as she stood in front of him with an eyebrow raised.

Dumbfounded, he tried to make sense of her frustrated rambling. Standing quickly, he grabbed her hands, stilling the furious

tapping from her fingers and brought them to his chest.

"Sweetheart, you are going to have to refresh my memory. I seem to be lost," he glanced at her, seeing something more in her eyes than just the angry glint on the surface. Something else was definitely there, but he couldn't put his finger on it. "What did I do this time? I swear, I did NOT touch your chair. That was Esposito!" His voice lowered. "I _told_ him not to mess with it. I knew I would be the one to get in trouble."

Kate's hand moved to his mouth and covered it quickly. She was NOT in the mood to hear him complain about Esposito's recent crimes.

"Mr. Castle, you know EXACTLY what I am talking about. A little Castle told me what you bought the other day."

_Alexis. _He thought bitterly. _How could my own child betray me like that?_

She spoke again. "And I want to know why, exactly," a flash of annoyance gleamed in her eyes, "you chose to disobey my direct orders?"

Castle gulped loudly.

"Well, I – uh. Well, you see, I just, uhm. Yeah, well….I—I…uh. Because?" He started to get pale as Kate's eyes bore into his.

"Because—what, _hon?" _ A dangerous look swept over her face. She moved forward until he was pushed against his desk.

"What the matter, _sweetie?_ Cat got your tongue?" Her hands moved over his chest and shoulders, up to his ear. He flinched.

Kate smiled and laughed, pinching his ear.

"YOUCH!" He squealed.

"I'M SORRY HONEY! I'M SORRY! Apples-apples-_**APPLES**_!" Screeching loudly, he apologized profusely until she relinquished the death grip on his ear.

Kneeling at her feet he spoke once again. "Kate, I am sorry… but it's not like I _wasn't_ going to buy you a birthday present. I had to! You're gonna love it, I promise!"

Kate just smirked and bent over to look at him in the eye.

"Now Castle, was that so hard?" He shook his head as his hand rubbed his reddening ear.

She helped him up from the floor. "Show me this wonderful present of mine. It better be good, or your other ear is going to get it."

He grabbed her hands for the second time that evening and pulled her towards their bedroom for her surprise. She playfully reached for his other ear a time or two, each instance causing him to both let out a yelp and spring out of reach.

Yes, his ears were going to pay. But this time, he was certain the benefits would far outweigh the costs.

* * *

**_Don't forget to leave a lovely review! _**

**_~MDH_**

**_(Publisher's Note: We are sorry there was no update last night, and that this update is coming so late tonight. apparently is going through some maintenance, so until it is finished (they are saying by Tuesday, they hope) I will do my best to post chapters. We should be back on track soon... I am planning on updating again and posting 'M' tonight, but I'll have to see if it will even let me. I was surprised that it even let me in (after three tries) right now to post this. Bear with me! ~MTAM)_**


	13. Mornings

**_So..._**

**_Finally. _**

**_A few things to blame here... the site being down... my internet being down, the site being down some more, and my muse running off to somewhere tropical and refusing to invite me. I know, rude, right? Anyhow, we should be back on track now... Sorry for the delay! :) _**

**_Special thanks to MDH for her awesome BETAing! :D_**

**_ Enjoy!_**

**_~MTAM_**

* * *

The first morning was much like every other. There was absolutely nothing that gave away what had changed. Caught a case, drank coffee, chased leads, picked on each other. It was more of an unspoken agreement anyway, nothing else.

The second morning, much of the same.

And the third.

And the fourth.

The fifth morning, there was a bit of a bounce in her step. Not to mention his. He practically floated to the break room to pour her an innocent cup of coffee. No one had to know that it was already her third cup; and that he had poured the previous two as well.

The sixth morning, there were pancakes. Banana nut pancakes. And even though they were secret in nature, they definitely were not (as Esposito had once put it) 'Thank you so much for last night' pancakes. Well. They were. But not like Esposito would have thought.

The seventh morning, there were pointed smiles, and heavy eyes. There were lunch plans, and working late, which turned into dinner plans. Lunch was Chinese. Dinner, Remy's.

The precinct buzzed around them, nearly unaware of the dynamic shift. What was there to notice, really? They fit before they realized they fit.

The pattern of the next week, and the week after followed suit, almost. Swap 'banana nut' for 'blueberry' and 'Chinese' for 'pizza', and it worked.

On the sixteenth morning, there was a definite air of exhaustion between the two. They shuffled into the precinct, only arriving a minute or two apart (which was not as crafty as they assumed it to be), and heading straight for the coffee machine. It didn't help that they were about a half an hour late, well at least Beckett was. No matter what the others were to assume, a movie marathon (turned make-out session) was to blame, no more.

On the twentieth morning, they were up before the sun, being summoned from their shared bed to a crime scene by dispatch. Too bad, too, because Kate was finally ready to give in to the heat that was beginning to settle in her abdomen every time he even brushed his skin with hers. They had both been very patient, taking it slow like they should, but the fire between them was starting to rage out of control. Unfortunately, fate (not to mention dead bodies) always had other plans.

On the twenty-fifth morning, she crept back into his loft around 4:30 am (he had given her a key a long time ago, even before they were dating, just in case). She climbed into bed with a whispered 'I'm sorry' for all the insults she had thrown at him the previous night. He had, of course, been awake, not able to sleep after the explosive fight they had waged, and welcomed her back. He whispered his apologies for his part in the war as they drifted off.

On the thirty-first morning, they were almost an hour late to the precinct, (arriving very much together this time) hair still damp and eyes darting to the other frequently. Years of pent up energy released, their tired, wild looks revealed the passionate night that had transpired... finally.

There never seemed to be a real pattern, just an erratic routine that they both seemed to enjoy. Mornings came and mornings went...

On the forty-seventh morning, she finally let those three words tumble out of her lips after a dizzying session of ravishing each other. She barely realized she said it before curling into his side and succumbing to sleep. He stayed awake half the night, reveling in the feeling of her against him, and from the grin that refused to erase itself from his face.

On the fifty-third morning, they waltzed in, hand in hand, deciding to go for shock value when finally 'coming out' to their friends. They got pointed stares, a couple jaw drops, and a smack upside the head from a certain ME.

On the sixty-fifth morning, there were flowers and a note on the counter for her, and freshly brewed coffee still steaming in the carafe. Paula apparently stole him for an early morning meeting with the Black Pawn execs, and according to the note, the flowers were from the agent, with two sentences (if you could call them that) scrawled in her flowing handwriting. 'Finally!' and 'I'll have him back soon!'

On the eighty-second morning, _she_ actually made _him_ breakfast, despite his protests when she slipped out of bed. She had worn him out sufficiently the night before it was easy to allow him to drop back off to sleep, and slink downstairs to get the coffee pot going.

On the ninety-ninth morning, he was utterly flabbergasted that he was able to convince her to call off work. How he managed that one, he would never know, but he had his suspicions.

On the one hundred and thirty second morning, he looked from the drawer that had turned into drawers, and the shelf that had turned into shelves, to meet her eyes, and back to her things. His eyes pondered a question, which she immediately read and responded to. "Sure, why not?" She had said, simply. He was expecting a fight. Or at least to do some persuading. And while the persuading could have been fun, he was happier with the fact that she had agreed.

On the one hundred and fortieth morning, she stopped paying her rent, and turned in her key.

On the one hundred and seventy-first morning, he flew out at three am for a book tour. Between packing and their usual banter, they managed to make up for the time they would lose by giving the kitchen counter an alternate use, and giving the shower a bigger show than it bargained for.

On the one hundred and ninety seventh morning, they flew out the door to help with the big Ryan/O'Malley wedding. Kate was flawless in the emerald green that matched that of Castle's groomsman's vest. Last minute, she was asked to fill in for a horribly sick bridesmaid. She acquiesced, and as luck would have it, she and Castle just happened to walk down the aisle together. Somehow, it didn't feel as weird as she would have thought.

On the two-hundred and eleventh morning, Kate opened her current choice of reading material (which just happened to be 'Storm Warning') to find two plane tickets stashed behind her bookmark. They were to Tampico, Mexico, and they were departing in a few days. Out of character, she squealed all the way back to the bedroom, pouncing on the still sleeping Castle, and kissing him senseless. She hated to admit it, but she could use the time off. And more importantly, with Castle in the picture, she _wanted_ the time off to spend with him.

On the two hundred and twenty third morning, they sat, hand in hand, watching the sunrise. They had yet to sleep, after making love in the surf (now that he had whisked her off to a private island), the sand, their bedroom, and nearly every other place in the small but luxurious bungalow that was on their own little piece of heaven. He then clasped both her hands with his, and turned her towards him and away from the ball of orange. He had slowly looked into her eyes and flipped her palm over. She felt cool metal hit her skin, and when he removed his hand, a beautiful silver and diamond ring sat in her open palm. Her eyes had grown wide and her mouth was open in disbelief. He whispered, "Don't say anything yet. Take it, take the box. I just want you to know where I stand.

On the two hundred and thirtieth morning, she woke him with a kiss. She moved to pepper his lips and cheeks and then his neck with tiny, open mouthed caresses. He looked at her with a hint of sadness in his eyes, for it was time to go. Time to leave the fantasy that had been their time away, and back to reality. The unforgotten ring was on a chain about her neck, waiting for its debut.

On the two hundred and forty-second morning, he managed to encourage her to _actually relax_ on her day off. All too often her days away from the precinct still involved her running around from place to place. Seeing as it was raining anyway, they spent almost the day's entirety in bed. Doze, make love, snuggle, banter, and repeat. They might have moved once to get coffee, but one can't be entirely sure.

On the two hundred and fifty-third morning, he asked with pleading eyes. It had been a month, and she knew he was doing his best. But still, she waved him off.

On the two hundred and seventy fifth morning, she rolled off him, exhausted, and mumbled, "Well, aren't you going to ask me properly?" before falling asleep once again.

... And on the two hundred and seventy fifth evening, she finally said "Yes."

* * *

_**You there. Yes, you. Go review. Just click the little button below. Go on now. Yeah. We can see you. Don't think we can't see you. We've got *connections* you know! ;)**_

_**But seriously. Reviews are the best things EVER.**_

_**Oh, and I forgot to mention before, but the trip and way Rick proposed was inspired by 'The Plan' by Googie. If you haven't read it, GO. NOW. READ IT. It's SO incredibly good! :)**_

**_LOVE!_**

**_~MTAM_**


	14. Nights

**_Okay... I feel like I have lots of 'splainin' to do... but I feel like most of you don't care and just would like to read this chapter. So here is the short list. 1) Laptop died 2) I lost MDH (seriously, she's totally MIA. I'm worried...) 3) I have been working my ass off this summer._**

**_So. I am partner-less, so this might not be everyday, but I promise to try to update regularly. I probably lost a lot of you, but those who stuck with me, THANK YOU! :)_**

**_Enjoy!_**

**_~MTAM_**

* * *

**Nights**

Nights were different. The bustle stopped. The world calmed. And although dead bodies waited for no man, they seemed to at least be discovered less often after the sun slipped beneath the trees.

Nights were his favorite. Secretly, they were hers too. Despite her early schedule, she had always been a night owl, and had always fought off the early morning cranks with powerful willpower... and let's be honest, powerful caffeine.

Nights were _theirs._ They had options. _Lots_ of options. And it seemed that each night was a new adventure to see what they would pick to do. Sometimes it was very repetitive, sometimes it was unique, but it was always completely their own.

Nights were always a surprise. Sometimes the same situation could spark completely different reactions. Like a tough case... sometimes they needed to cry together, sometimes they needed to reaffirm life in the loudest, sweatiest way possible.

Nights were something to fill the gap that the day left. Missed opportunities, her insistence (reasonably so) for professional behavior at the precinct, and marathon days made it difficult to remember the facts sometimes. Days made if difficult to say 'I love you." Nights never hesitated with the sentiment.

Nights were subtle. Days were too bright, too obvious. Being out and about together often meant sunglasses and ball caps, which never really bothered them, but there was just something about the gleam in their eyes being clouded by brown plastic that dimmed the mood. Playful glints seemed to ignite in the glare of the late night city lights, blushes seemed deeper, and the darkening of desire was thrown into sharp contrast.

Nights were when they could be honest. Things that seemed to be so intricate and complex during the day tended to slip out like the easiest thing in the world. He'd tried to spit it out so many times, for weeks and weeks it seemed, each time, the words fizzling out on his tongue.

It was a night when he finally asked.

And it was a night when she finally said "Yes."

* * *

_**Yes, this was kind of supposed to mirror 'Mornings' **_

_**And for those of you who remember me saying something about how I had written 'O' and then my laptop died, and I didn't know if I could get it back? (and that the chapter was really hot?) Yeeeeah, it's gone. I'll do my best to recreate it. :)**_

_**Be kind, please review!**_


	15. Oh!

_**Saddle up, kids! Another 'M' rated chapter! **_

**_I mentioned that I had this idea before my netbook broke, and even had it written out. I lost the original when it crashed, but I tried to recreate it the best I could. I don't know if I am 100% happy with it, but sometimes you just gotta bite the proverbial bullet and post. Let me know if you have any suggestions, and more importantly, what you think! I am glad people are reading and favoriting, but if you don't tell me what went on in your mind during and after reading the chapter, I have no idea what kind of job I did! I wish I could bribe you to review with something. Alas, I have no good ideas. _**

**_ALSO. I am accepting ideas for a 'P' word. No, not pigtails. Too obvious. When I lost my netbook, I also lost me and MDH's word list. Suggestions are greatly appreciated!_**

**_LOVE!_**

**_MTAM_**

**_ps- Clearly, I don't own them, because this is a national network show. I don't think ABC would let me film this scene. ;)_**

* * *

She was biting them back out of habit.

Whether it was because a certain red-headed teenager was in the next room that she didn't want to emotionally scar, or that she didn't want complaints from the neighbors, she made it a point to hold back all the sounds of pleasure that she wanted to release. It also had something to do with her personality; she was never one to let others know what was going on behind closed doors. She wasn't one to kiss- or do otherwise- and tell.

They had finally made it to the king-sized bed that was in the middle of the most inexplicably beautiful vacation lodging she had ever seen. It was their one year anniversary of finally becoming an official couple, and although they had only been on their own private spit-of-land for less than 24 hours, they had already taken more than advantage of their remote location. They had their way with each other in the surf, twice, barely ten minutes after the boat that had ferried them there had disappeared. Rick had quite literally dropped their luggage and pounced on her. Alone as they had been, she still held back.

After recovering from that, they stumbled into their open air bungalow to the simple shower nestled inside. The intent was to rinse all the sand off themselves and begin to settle in, but as soon as their lips crashed together under the spray, the mission quickly dissolved into their pure hunger for each other. Even as he pounded into her against the warm glass of the shower stall, she still bit her lip as the waves of pleasure crashed around them, unwilling to give into the cries that wanted to escape. As her legs weakened beneath her, he hoisted her into his still dripping arms and grabbed a towel with his teeth. She laughed as she playfully tried to wiggle free, eventually giving up and taking the towel from him and giving him another groan-inducing kiss. He stood her up on the floor next to the bed, in fear of his own legs buckling in response. She toweled them both off, taking extra care in drying each bit of his body from toes to nose.

Unable to resist her any longer, he took her hands in his, pulling them to the giant bed in the middle of the romantic hut. A beautifully gauzy material floated gently around the bed, twisting this way and that in the balmy tropical breeze. The bedsheets were a creamy off-white, and they were luxuriously and deliciously soft. The whole room felt light, airy, and was nothing short of breathtaking. He led her around the flowing material, coaxing her to follow as he flopped down into the sheets. She rolled onto the bed half on his chest, half on the sheets and stole a glance his way, expecting his eyes to be sleepy and ready for a mid-afternoon nap. She was surprised to find that they held a fire that had her falling into desire in an instant.

He rolled on top of her, assaulting her neck with his hot, eager lips. She tasted of sweat and her own brand of sweetness which was addicting on its own, but the salt from the air that clung to her skin brought back the memory of their lovemaking in the surf. He knew that he would never be able to look at a beach in quite the same way ever again. She let out a soft whimper beneath him, and he continued down her body, egged on by the sound. He reached his intended destination, and swirled his tongue over her. When she shivered in delight, he slid a finger, then two inside her warm, inviting body. Kate fisted her hands into the sinfully soft plush of the bed, and wound her legs around Rick's shoulders.

Each flick of his tongue, each curl of his fingers set off a new reaction, each more tantalizing than the last. But she still kept herself at a quiet roar, and he couldn't figure out why. Honestly, it was part of his plan to get her to unleash herself here, purposely choosing the most remote place he could find in order to fulfill his quest. He realized long ago that she censored herself, and it was time for her to let go. He smiled to himself and continued, pressing into her sweetest spot deliciously until she came apart, shuddering almost violently under his fingers and mouth.

He began to kiss his way up her body, at the slowest pace he could manage. He wanted to allow her to recover before his next move. He _was_ going to get her to explode, and to accomplish this, he had to let her reset herself. By the time he made it to her chest, her breathing had evened out, and by the time his lips touched hers, he could feel her already asking for more. Her lips worked fervently over his, saying all the words that were scrambled up in her mind and were hopeless to try to speak. He lifted himself over her, never losing contact with her lips as he slid into her slowly. She let out a breath as he moved into her, letting herself feel him completely. He trailed his lips to her neck, and she dug her nails into his shoulder blades; unspoken words for: 'Let's go.'

When he began to move, he immediately groaned at the feeling of her meeting him thrust for thrust. They were used to this dance, and they knew how to perfectly execute the choreography. _Maybe that was one of the problems, _Rick thought, _have we fallen into a routine?_ Although he doubted that he ever could take this extraordinary woman for granted, he figured a few more surprises in their lives couldn't hurt. What better time to start than right now?

He quickly rolled away, and turned them both so his chest was pressed against her back. Ignoring her whimper of protest from the temporary loss of contact, he began kissing up her shoulder. Reaching her neck, he buried his nose in her hair; at the same time, without warning, he buried himself within her. She moaned in surprised pleasure. Jumbled words began spilling out of her mouth as he slammed into her again and again. Rick hooked one of her legs into the crook of his elbow, and used that little bit of leverage to change the angle just a touch. He was rewarded again with another lyrical moan. Still, it wasn't enough. He knew she was close. He knew _he_ was close.

Taking a chance, he kissed her shoulder again, working his way to her ear. He took her earlobe into his mouth, teasing the soft skin for a moment, then growled into her ear, "Come on, Kate. C'mon. Let go. Let go for me, baby."

He could only see her profile, but her eyes flew open and let out a surprised gasp. He felt her clench around him, and then...

"OOOOOOoooooohhhhhhhhh!"

The sound that came out of Kate's mouth was the single most beautiful thing Rick had ever heard. It was primal, unbridled, and completely sexy. He felt it reverberate through her and pass into his body, hitting somewhere deep within. Between that, and knowing that he had caused that animalistic noise was enough to send him catapulting after her, grinding out an intense groan of his own, one that Kate could feel to her very core.

When their panting and heaving had subsided, they lay cradled in each others arms, considering sleep a viable option at last.

Just as his eyelids were drooping, he heard her mumble,

"Happy?"

"How did you...?"

"Rick, I always know."

A moment passed.

"...Oh."

* * *

_**Be kind, please review! :D**_


	16. Proof

_**No excuses. Just a new chapter. Enjoy. **_

**_Also- I couldn't decide on the name- so I cheated and made it both. XD_**

_**Many thanks to my BETA for this one- demuredemeanor :))**_

_**Saw this once, wanted to use it- Words are mine, world ain't. **_

* * *

**P(r)oof**

It began with a date. The first of its kind; the kind where Castle can't help but be himself and go all out: sweep her off her feet exactly how she deserves. It would be wrong, and not to mention terribly out of character for him not to.

After dinner, he takes her to a show, a magic show where the main events include a disappearing tiger (something they can both appreciate), and one of those outfit change routines. They watch as sheets are lifted, and immediately removed to find that the magician's assistant has changed from something pink and skimpy to a luxurious navy blue ballgown. And then there's a flash of light and she's standing before them in a short, yellow cocktail dress. Poof after poof, she's dressed in something different; all in the matter of seconds. He's always found this kind of trick the most intriguing. There simply isn't time for her to change! It _must _be magic.

"I gotta admit, Castle. That was pretty fun to see," She offers with a smile. "Sorry to burst your bubble, but I still don't believe in magic. It's a carefully choreographed routine where—" She stops when she realizes he's mocking her, free hand up (the other one happens to be entwined in hers), in the international (and totally mature) gesture for, 'blah, blah, blah.'

Cue the classic eye roll.

He wants to play ball, fine. She can handle that. She'll do him one better.

She tugs at his hand. "C'mon. I have something to show you."

He follows without a complaint, a talent he's perfected through their partnership. She leads him up, up, up until the stairs run out, and they're standing on the rooftop. She gives his hand a squeeze before releasing it, and takes a deep breath. Walking so smoothly that it seems as if she's floating; she is drawn to the triangular corner of the place, smiling easily back at him and the transfixed look on his features. His eyes can't be focused on anything else when she is around. They never could.

This is her own personal peak, the apex of the urban mountain she tirelessly climbs every day on the path she chose. The right path. The just path. But at the mountain top, all those rock slides and dangerous beings that constantly litter the slopes are at bay, because up here, she can _breathe._

"I come up here to think. It's quieter. And the best part? No cell service." She says, after a moment, turning a shoulder in his direction. It's mostly the truth. She'll divulge more later, because heavens knows he deserves it, but now isn't the time, even though it is, in fact, the place.

He opens his mouth to defend his loudly playing thoughts, but she adds, 'And don't say you didn't ask.'

He closes his mouth and instead goes with a knowing smile. Understanding her so well after so short a time really seems like a blessing he isn't entirely sure he deserves. Although, she knows him just as well. Better sometimes, maybe.

He studies her as she turns back to cast her gaze over the ledge, eyes tracing the skyline, and her soft lines juxtaposed against the hard lines of the concrete.

"So, you bring all your dates up here?" He jokes, not wanting her to feel obligated to share more.

She turns to face him, finding that he's snuck into her personal space. It doesn't surprise her. She reaches up and fiddles with one of the lapels of his jacket, her eyes finally finding his, reveling in that boyish-blue glint that resides there so often.

'Oh I don't know, Writer-Boy,' she drawls out, almost in a sing-song. 'Just the ones that are intent on presenting me with so-called 'proof' so I'll believe in fairy tales and double rainbows.' Her other hand comes up and under his jacket to playfully nudge him in the ribs a few times.

He laughs in a deep, rich timbre she already knows she'll never tire of. Every time he laughs like that, every time he laughs like that because of _her_, it feels like a big bear hug, a warm weight that settles comfortably around her shoulders. Along with coffee, that laugh of his is a classic indicator that everything is good, great even, between them. She fruitlessly tries to come up with a timeline in her head of when she started feeling that way. It is blurred, as it should be. Every other relationship she's been in have felt too choppy, too many milestones that stuck out. As she watched herself get further and further away from those milestones, the more terrified she became.

Not with him. Blurred is good. A natural progression.

He was willing to wait, not force anything.

That was a first.

She smiles up at him, a genuine, soft smile behind which he can just see the pink tip of her tongue. That smile was all of his favorite emotions wrapped up into one. Teasing. Happiness. Affection. Amusement. _That _smile_. _He can describe it a thousand different ways, it's his job to do so, after all, but in this instance it's better left unwritten.

"So, what _will_ make you believe?" He asks, softly.

"I don't know," she offers, her eyes still dancing in delight. "Try me."

He makes a show out of thinking about this challenge. He settles his hands on her waist, and tilts his posture to one side, as if deep in thought.

'The great Richard Castle, stumped?' She asks, playfully. His eyes find hers, and she sees the answer in his eyes. She feels a rosy red touching her cheeks as she offers, 'Need some help?'

Her eyes float to his lips for a moment, and then down to her hands, now toying with his collar. As her curious fingers march higher to play with the nape of his neck, she hears his intake of breath. She's got him. In truth, she had him long ago.

His hands slide around her, pulling her closer as she brings a hand to his jaw. He watches her mouth, pretty and pink. This is it. No turning back now.

Their eyes hold in a soft but powerful gaze, and as she closes the distance, her lungs fill with air. As he hovers closer, she feels like she is literally breathing him in. Her breath hitches, at its limit, and the humming air around them seems to still.

When the spark shoots between them, she follows it and lands her lips on his. Gently, she moves against him, flush to his broad chest.

They both groan a little at the initial contact, a little hazy, a little stunned that the load of this tension between them is quickly dissolving. And then they begin to move, a choreographed dance that they know perfectly without even trying, and _God,_ it feels so good, so world-shattering, even though they've barely begun.

His hand slinks up into her hair, bringing her even closer now, and closer still when she slides a heel clad foot around his knee. When they landed pressed up against the tall, fall-preventing rail they can't be sure, because all they can feel are lips and tongues and each other and even though they are blissfully lost, _yes_, this is happening, and _yes, _this is real and _yes, _they should have done this long ago.

She nibbles on his lower lip, a heated growl escaping his lips because _hell_ she is good at this, and he would have written off kissing every woman he ever has kissed since meeting her had he known that it would be like this. He'd had an inkling, though, if he had to be honest. But nothing like this. This was unfathomable. She was right that first day. _(She's always right._) He had _no idea._

And now it's her turn to sound off, a strangled noise, barely half of what she wants to let out because his tongue is _downright sinful_ and she wants to spend the rest of the foreseeable future with it wrapped around hers.

He's drawn to her upper lip, she, to his bottom one. Perfectly in sync, their bodies respond to each other, warming, seemingly pliable to the other's touch. His tongue swipes along her lip, and while she's distracted, his hands wander lower, cupping her shaped backside, and hauling her closer. She whimpers in surprise, but makes no move to stop as she kisses down his jaw and to his throat, surprising him in turn. Her lips over over the thrumming pulse under his skin, her hot breath doing more to quicken its tempo than anything else.

She finds his lips again, gentler this time, languidly working her mouth against his, marveling in how easy, how effortless this is. It's like they've been kissing all their lives. Not that either of them mind the extra practice.

_Go ahead, _she thinks, _I need the practice. _Her lips quirk against his at the memory of her own words.

As if sensing her thought, he quickens the pace again, working her into a tizzy; his talented lips and tongue doing the most devious dance she's ever felt as he dips lower to her neck. He bites and soothes, working his way up and down, and back up again to her lips as their kisses slow, as if in some unspoken agreement.

Breathless, panting, they pull away from each other, a thousand questions resonating in both their eyes. She's not so sure how a moment that was supposed to knock him off kilter hit her so hard. Talk about backfire. But all that can wait because now, this moment is too important to sully with that kind of talk. Answers now, questions later.

Her head falls to his shoulder, as if to steady herself, and he tightens his arms in reassurance. After a moment, she draws back and looks at him, running her hands through his hair; (_how long has she wanted to do that?) _her hair is tousled, lips swollen pink, and eyes ignited.

"Now, Rick, this,"she nods between them, "is the kind of magic I believe in."

* * *

**_How'd you like it? Worth the ridiculously long wait? :))_**

_**love! **_

_**MTAM**_


End file.
